Avatar: The Legend of Bumi & Assistant Postmaster Hung-Zan
by E.G.Fate
Summary: By chance Assistant Postmaster Hung-Zan befriended and decided to help street-kid Bumi search for his kidnapped mother. What could go wrong? A whole lot. Soon he finds himself in over his head.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1.**

Looking from the scrawny street kid to the two guards that tightly held the little troublemaker, Assistant Postmaster Hung-Zan sighed, "I'll handle this. Both of you can go back to work."

"You sure, Sir? He's hard to catch and good at giving people the slip," the older guard replied.

"Which is exactly why I should handle it. Sending a clever beggar boy to jail, will probably just make him more inclined to be a criminal. Getting to the root of the problem, and finding a better solution, will hopefully end with everybody happy." Hung-Zan said, then crouched down so he was at eye-level with the boy. He smiled, "Let's go to my office and talk. I've got some steamed buns with red bean filling that we can share."

The boy's stomach answered before he did, growling like a tiger-bear. Giving a crooked grin, as one of his eyes shut half way, he replied, "Can't say no to an offer like that." Then to the guards, he said, "I'm sorry about the mess I made. It was an accident."

"Just make sure you don't play on the delivery system again, kid. It's not your personal ride." The older guard said as he gave the boy's wrist to Hung-Zan.

As the assistant postmaster gentle guided the boy to his office, he asked, "So, my name's Hung-Zan. What's yours? And how old are you?"

"Bumi's the name. I'm basically thirteen years old and one of the best earthbenders you'll ever see," He responded.

The postmaster chuckled as he open the door to his office. Letting go of the boy's wrist, he reach for the lunchbox and said, "Take a seat. So, Bumi, you understand that you've been causing a lot of problems for the city's delivery system."

As a steam bun was handed to him, Bumi replied, "Yeah, like I said I'm sorry about today. I really didn't mean to cause that huge crash. When I lost control of the cart I was in, I freaked and next thing I know there's a bunch of carts smashing into one another. I tried to stop it."

Hung-Zan nodded. "You were able to mitigate the damage by an impressive amount."

"Mitigate?"

"Lessen. Decrease. Reduce."

Bumi chuckled, "Well, I wasn't lying when I said that I was a great earthbender."

"Yes, it's the reason you haven't been caught all the other times you've cause trouble for us delivery system workers." Hung-Zan replied, biting into a steamed bun.

"Other times?" Bumi questioned.

"Remember all of the rides you took on the chutes? Each one caused adults to panic. And it wasn't just worry over your safety that made problems for people. Every time you earthbended the chutes in odd places so you could go faster, you created little cracks that needed repair. Granted your bent the chutes very skillful, but that made it hard for the maintenance team to figure out where those small fractures were." Hung-Zan saw the boy's deepening frown and felt that the child understood the point of his lecture.

The assistant postmaster nudged another steamed bun toward the boy and said, "Don't get too gloom over it. During my childhood, I took a many rides on those chutes. A lot of this city's daredevils do it. Many have gotten hurt and a few have even died."

"Died!" Bumi exclaimed. "Kids, too?"

"Yes, kids, too. I'm glad you weren't one of them. Last year, I had to deal with a teenager who got himself mangled after crashing some carts and…I don't want to have to do that again." Hung-Zan tried not to think about that bloody corpse, but he did and shivered. Thankfully, the filling of his steamed bun dripping between his fingers took his mind off the dark subject. He grabbed a napkin with his clean hand, and as he stopped the red bean paste from leaking onto the table, he asked, "Bumi, I know you're a strong earthbender, but what you're doing is still dangerous. I don't want to see you get hurt or worst. Could you please stop riding the chutes for fun?"

"Okay, I'll stop riding the chutes for fun. From now on I'll only do it in emergencies, like when I need to make a speedy getaway." Bumi promised as he chomped on the last steamed bun.

"Well, that's a good start." Hung-Zan sighed, shaking his head. "But, you really shouldn't be stealing. There's other ways to get food."

"Hey, I don't steal," Bumi protested, crossing his arms. "I do chores for old people to get food and sometimes I even earn a little bit of money. Why do think I steal stuff?"

Hung-Zan looked at the skinny boy, and said, "Sorry, normally when street-kids say they need to make a getaway, it's because there doing some illegal."

"Fair enough, I guess," Bumi replied, uncrossing his arms. "But, I'm really not a thief. My mom would kill me if I turned to a life of crime. All I really need the chutes for is quick escape from these thuds that chase me every few days."

Before the assistant postmaster could ask about who was chasing the child, the boy's eyes lit up. Bumi leaned forward in the chair, and said, "Hey, tell you what. If you help me find my mom, I'll stop using the delivery system for good."

"Your mom? You're not an orphan?" Hung-Zan said, surprised, but happy the child wasn't alone.

"Not yet. Ya, see, I never had a dad, but I did have a mom, an uncle and a super old grandpa. My grandpa died when I was eight, but don't feel bad for him. He always said he had it coming soon and should've been dead yesterday." Bumi laughed, then the smile on his face faded and he lowered his head. "I'm glad he wasn't there when Uncle Bai was killed."

Hung-Zan stood up and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I see you've been through a lot. Take your time."

"Thanks," He said, raising his head. A tear rolling down his cheek as he continued, "About three years ago, when I was ten, I came home after dark and saw our house on fire. The neighbors said some thuds had ransacked the place, killed my uncle, kidnapped my mom, then those monsters set my home ablaze. And just as per usual in the poorer parts of town, the guards didn't investigate. They didn't help me." Bumi slammed his fist on the table. "They didn't even help put the fire out!"

Moving around the table, Hung-Zan embraced the boy and said, "I didn't realize the poorer sections of the city had it that bad."

"Don't worry. When I grow up, I'm going to become someone important. I'll change things then, but right now I just need to find my Mom," Bumi said, as he hugged the assistant postmaster.

Feeling grim as he spoke, Hung-Zan said, "Bumi, if it's been three years since you've seen her, I don't think your mother is alive."

"She is," Bumi replied, pulling away from him. "That group of thuds that stole her has been hunting me since that day. Two weeks ago, when they chasing me, as I bent a wall in their path, one of them yelled that my mom would die all alone if I didn't come with them. That means she must be alive. At least barely, but knowing her, she'll last longer than anyone thinks she can."

Bumi looked up at the assistant postmaster, his green eyes sparkling with hope as he said, "With an adult helping me, I'm sure I can save her in time. Will you help me?"

Staring at the hopeful, little boy, Hung-Zan couldn't say no.

(Author's note: Hung-Zan's name is a combination of two Chinese names. Hung which means "courageous" or "heroic" and Zan which means "providing support." I picked these from a baby names website since there meaning sounded right for the character who will providing the support that Bumi needs to complete his quest.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

Returning the platypus-bear sized mound of paperwork to his boss, Hung-Zan quickly bowed then hurried back to his office. As he entered, he saw Bumi was still sleeping in the corner. The boy's back was against the wall as he sat cross-legged, with his head slumped down. He bumped the kid, who half opened his left eye. "Done with work for the day?"

"Yep, have a good nap?" Hung-Zan asked.

"I wasn't sleeping. I was watching and waiting," Bumi replied as he stood up, stretching his back and arms.

Chuckling, as he pick-up his lunchbox, Hung-Zan said, "Oh, really? It must be hard to keep watch with your eyes close."

"Yeah, but it gets easier each time," Bumi respond then, seeing the assistant postmaster's puzzled face, said, "You do know it's possible for an earthbender to "see" with their feet, right?"

Hung-Zan eyebrows rose to his hairline (or where his hairline used to be). "You can see through vibrations? That's incredible for your age. Most people don't even try to learn that skill since it takes so long to develop. What's your range?"

"Range? You mean how far I can see with my feet?" Bumi asked. Seeing the bob of the assistant postmaster's head, the boy said, "The short answer is it varies. Different circumstances, different results, but if I meditate while doing it I can search an entire section of the city without moving a single pinky toe."

"Bouncing boulders! Now, that's a skill I'd love to acquire," Hung-Zan said, thinking of all uses he'd get out of such a talent. He could picture himself "seeing" his boss coming for surprise inspection. Having a few moments to clean his desk and look busier for the big man, would be very helpful in his pursuit of a promotion.

"I can teach you. It'll cost you two turtle-duck kabobs per hour." Bumi pointed to a nearby food cart. Seeing the boy's gesture, the vender waved as he rotated meats on the grill.

Feeling his stomach rubble, Hung-Zan snickered, "Well, that sounds like a reasonable price. Do you take payments in advance?"

The child nodded then they walked over to the food cart, and Hung-Zan order couple of kabobs for both of them. Sticks of still steaming meat in hand, the assistant postmaster and the boy munched as they marched. Gnawing on the turtle-duck, Bumi asked, "So, what's the plan?"

"First, we'll swing by my place, so I can change out of my uniform and grab my spear," Hung-Zan replied, then bit off a large piece of meat. After swallowing it, he continued, "Then start where everything began. We'll go to your old home, talk to the local guards and neighbors. From there, we'll make a plan for how to proceed."

"Okay, but I don't think you'll learn much. I already talked to everybody." Bumi said, as he tossed the meatless kabob sticks into a public waste bin.

Patting the boy's shoulder as he threw his own kabob sticks away, Hung-Zan responded, "Maybe, kid, but it can't hurt. Besides a fresh pair of eyes can bring new perspective on things and reveal stuff that was hidden to others."

"Still feels like back tracking."

"Well, yes. Can't do anything about that," Hung-Zan chuckled while scratching his head, then he asked. "So, what's your mother's name?"

"Ling-Ming. Ming is our family's name."

Hung-Zan stopped. "Ming? Any relation to Mu-Ming?"

Bumi smiled as bright as the sun. "Yep, he was grandfather. He taught me earthbending and how to see with my feet."

"Wow, no wonder you're so advance for your age," Hung-Zan said as he began to move forward. "He was legend during the War for the Western Ricelands and the Siege of fort Ba Chou. They say he could see the movements of entire armies through the earth."

"Yeah, I never knew whether he was exaggerating about how much he could see with his feet. He used to tell me stories about his adventures as a soldier, but he'd only do that when he was drunk." Bumi's smile faded. "You know, I don't think I understood him until after he died. War gave him both glory and hell, and grandfather didn't know how to deal either one in the right way."  
"I can relate to that." Hung-Zan stared down the city street as if he was trying to see what was beyond the horizon of an endless, grassy landscape. "Bandits were the worse I face during my time on active duty. We killed them and save lives, but even that was…a feeling I can't put into words."

"The horror of triumph," Bumi stated. "That's what grandfather called it."

A meek smile rising on his face, Hung-Zan said, "Yeah, that sums it up, neatly. Here's my home."

* * *

Hung-Zan sat on an ill repaired wall, hoping it wouldn't crumble apart like his investigation was. He'd spent the past two evenings talking to people and visiting the scene of the crime where the Ming's home still lay in ashen ruins. Nothing had come of it. Nobody knew more than what young Bumi had told him. The majority of neighborhood had seen the blaze, but only three, nearsighted old ladies had witnessed the attack on the house and Ling-Ming's abduction. Most frustrating was the local guards, whose entire records of the incident read: "Fire at Ming's."

"Disgraceful! If I was in charge of those men, I'd have them write 'fire at Ming's' from sunup 'til sundown for a decade while ten infants scream in their ears."

"That's harsh," Bumi hopped onto the wall and hand the assistant postmaster some coins as he placed a steaming bag between them. "Sorry, they were out of the mildly spiced meat buns. I got us medium instead."

"That's okay, somedays things don't go right," Hung-Zan replied, as he casually took a bite from one of the buns.

"Wanna do something that can't go wrong?" Bumi asked as he gobbled down a bun.  
As his tongue burned, Hung-Zan replied, "What did you have in mind?"

"Our first lesson on seeing with your feet," Bumi responded while wiggling his toes. "It's so simple, you can't make a mistake."

"Okay, that sounds good," Hung-Zan said as he felt his entire face turning red.

Bumi stared at the crimson man, then gestured behind them and said, "There's a fountain back there."

Nodding as he handed the bag of steamed buns to the boy, Hung-Zan replied, "Thanks, kid. You eat the rest of these while I dunk my head in there."

A few minutes after dunking himself repeatedly in the fountain, Hung-Zan walked back to the boy. Bumi leapt from the wall while tossing the empty bag into a waste bin, then he smiled, "Done getting soaked to the bone?"

Hung-Zan nodded as he rubbed droplets off his forehead. "So, Guru Bumi, what are we doing for our first lesson?"

"Singing to stones," The boy replied while picking up a fallen brink from next to the worn wall. "Seeing through the earth is feeling the vibrations that you and others making as they step on the ground. Place this tightly against your ear then tap on the other side."

Hung-Zan did as teacher asked, listening to the muted taps, then he looked over to the boy as the child jumped over the short wall. Bumi smiled, "Now press your ear to the wall and listen for moment."

Worried the old wall would topple, Hung-Zan gently put his ear against the brinks. Soon he heard fate song, rippling thru the stones. As the lullaby like tune hummed in his head, the assistant postmaster started to wordlessly sing-a-long. Bumi chuckled from the other side of the wall. "You can hear it. Speaking is just vibrations travel from our throats into the air, then into ears. That's how we hear. And starting with something we do, will make it easier to learn what we don't do."

"Okay, but how do we use this to see with feet?"

"We moved to step two. Warning this is where it gets silly," Bumi chuckled then, peeking over the wall, he said. "Put your bare feet on the wall, positioning them in a ready-to-bend stances. Or as close as you can with your back on the ground."

As Hung-Zan placed his feet on the wall and tried to imitate his usual horse stance, he heard snickers from some of the neighborhood kids. Ignoring the children as he wondered how this madness would work, he said, "Ready."

"Great!" Bumi replied as he popped back behind the wall. "Now, pretend the wall is the ground. Feel the earth beneath you, like you're preparing to bend some dirt at an enemy. Close your eyes and meditate on that feeling for a bit. Just feel the earth beneath you."

Concentrating while picturing a past standoff with a bandit, Hung-Zan's breathing slowed. Then he started feeling something under brinks. A beat. No a tune. It's buzzed resonating from the stone to him, a familiar rhyme pulsating into each foot. Hung-Zan opened his eyes. "You're singing that song again."

"Yep," the little guru replied. Bumi head appeared from behind the wall. "You have just 'heard' vibrations with your feet. The next step is to practice like this and grow your senses. Then we can move on to feeling tapping toes. And then using the ground to sense people moving about."

"Just like that, huh? Little steps to greatest," Hung-Zan said, staring up at the sky as the stars began to peek out of glowing pink and purple sky.

"That's the idea," Bumi smiled. "Let's practice some more and make it a little fun. This time try to guess the song I'm—Boulders!"

Before Hung-Zan could glance in the direction Bumi's bugling eyes were looking, a huge rock sailed over the assistant postmaster and slammed into the wall. "Bumi!"  
"Alive!" the boy yelled, his head popping up in the hole the projectile had left in the wall. Then Bumi pointed in the direction the boulder had come flying from. "Those are the guys who have been trying to kill me."

Hung-Zan jumped up in time to see another rock headed for them.

* * *

(Author's note: The horse stance is a real martial art position. Pretend you're riding a horse and put your body into a position like you're on the saddle. That's basically how it looks.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

Crawling behind the wall as huge stones pelted the weak structure, Hung-Zan grabbed Bumi then dashed into the street, weaving into the maze of backstreets. After running a dozen blocks, he stopped and placed the boy down as he struggled to catch his breath. Years of paper pushing had really gotten him out of shape. He need to exercise more. No. He needed to focus on the kid killing punks that had just attacked them.

Stomping the ground, Bumi asked, "Did you get a good look at them before you took cover?"

"No, sorry. Happened too fast," Hung-Zan replied, as he stood straight.

"That's okay, we'll be seeing them soon. They're giving chase, but it'll be a bit before they get here," Bumi said, then he looked up and yelled, "Oh, no! They must've noticed I can see thru the earth."

Hung-Zan stared at the rooftops where two men armed with short swords dashed across the clay tiles. As they drew nearer he saw familiar crest on the headbands they wore. Pondering where he'd seen it, his mind saw nothing.

Tugging at his sleeve, Bumi asked, "Are we fighting or running?"

"I can take out those men," Hung-Zan replied, taking the two, metal batons from his belt. "Just keep some distance, and be prepared to defend yourself."

"Okay, but there's ten other guys trailing a dozen paces behind them," Bumi replied, picking up a loose cobblestone.

Hung-Zan shot a worried glance at the boy. "You sure?"

"Yes," the child nodded. "We running now?"

Quickly sliding the batons into his belt, the assistant postmaster said, "Yes, straight to the guards' station. You watch for enemy on the ground. I'll keep an eye on those roof hoppers."

The pair fled into the alleyways, jumping over broken down crates and garbage as they thundered thru the streets. Bumi smiled, "It's just up ahead and around that corner."

Hung-Zan grinned as they rounded the bend then he snarled, "Those idiots!"

His shout was barely noticed by the drunken guards as they snoozed, slumped over a table with drinks still in their hands. They didn't even move when the wine bottle between them was smashed by a tile that fell off the roof.

"Look out!" Hung-Zan roared as the roof hoppers jumped onto the street in front of them. For a moment the two sides stared at each other, feet edging along the ground. The swordsmen glanced at each other then wordlessly charged them. The bigger of the two men rushing straight at Hung-Zan as the other tried to get to Bumi. One mighty stomp created a wall between the assailant and the child. Batons ready to bash skulls, the assistant postmaster shouted, "You'll have to take me out first."

The smaller of the two men scoffed, "Whatever, it's your funeral, bald man."

"I'm not bald, yet!" Hung-Zan yelled, as his baton blocked the bigger swordsman's blade. As his and swordsmen's weapons clashed, the assistant postmaster soon could feel the beat of the fight. His opponents were skilled, but they had a rhythm that could be turned against them, if it didn't get him killed first. The larger one would charge and swing blade, using his full weight with each blow. Meanwhile, the smaller one pranced about and make quick thrusts, trying to draw his attention away from the larger one.

The tempo of their teamwork made Hung-Zan the master of the deadly dance as he predicted their footwork and soon guided the pair. Moving so that the larger swordsman blocked the smaller one. As the bigger swordsman swung his blade in a large arc he nearly hit his fellow ruffian. With a smile and a friendly tone, Hung-Zan said, "Watch out little man. He might get you next time."

"Shut up!" the smaller swordsmen screamed. "When this is over, I'll scalp what's left of your hair clean off!" Then he tried to thrust, but stopped. He looked down at his right leg which was cuffed to one the poles that held up the one side of the guard house.

Shaking a set of keys at the swordsman with a snorty chuckle, Bumi said, "Guess those guards were good for something after all."

The smaller swordsmen cursed the boy as he tried unsuccessfully to stab him while the larger swordsman shouted to ignore him. Taking advantage of the distraction, Hung-Zan charged the larger man, shoving his sword aside with one baton and bonking on the nose the other. Then he dropped both his batons and pushed the dazed swordsman hard, smashing the big man into the smaller swordsman. The two men collapsed one on top of the other.

"Hung, Catch!" Bumi shouted as he tossed a pair of handcuffs.

Grabbing them, the Hung-Zan quickly cuffed the smaller man's hand to the big man's foot, as little Bumi took another pair of cuffs and attached the larger swordsman wrist to the pole. Then the child ran to the assistant postmaster's side as the wad of two men attempted to move.

Patting the boy's head, Hung-Zan said, "Good work, kid." Then he looked down at the squirming swordsmen. "I hope your friends stop long enough to free you."

"Speaking of their friends," Bumi said, tugging on the assistant postmaster's sleeve. "We need to run."

"Now?"

"Now!"

Pausing only for a second to grab his batons, Hung-Zan zipped away with the boy. Ignoring the pleas of their cuffed comrades, a stampede of feet soon followed them too closely. Huffing and puffing, the assistant postmaster saw the boy tiring as the group of villains rounded the corners mere paces from them. Running wasn't going to work.

"We aren't going to invade them," Hung-Zan gasped.

"We can," The boy smirked, pointing at a stone wall. "If we can get to that. Get ready to jump!"

Hung-Zan ran towards the wall, trying to sense what was behind it with every step, but he felt nothing. Not a rock beyond it. Or anything. _Horror and panic! The child was leading him off a cliff!_ Looking back at the angry warriors surged at them, the assistant postmaster swallowed his fear of highs, as he felt Bumi earthbending the wall. Closing his eyes, Hung-Zan blindly following the confidently smirking boy, putting a hand on his shoulder as they both leaped into open space.

His stomach turned as the air penetrated the soles of his sandals. The bottoms of his feet feeling the nothingness was the worse. Not daring to open his eyes as he freefell, Bumi suddenly pulled towards him and shouted, "Get ready to ride!"

Sensing the boy earthbending something towards them, the assistant postmaster opened his eyes in time to see a cart flying at them. Bumi sailed inside it, dragging Hung-Zan along. Ten seconds later, before his wits returned, the pair roughly glided onto the delivery systems chutes.

"We got away from them," Bumi rejoiced as bended the cart forward.

Hung-Zan looked back at the angry group roaring at them from the broken wall that was already a great distances away then looked forward in horror as an equally angry looking group that stood at the depot ahead of them. As the cart came to halt at the little depot, they were surrounded by post workers. Guiltily, the assistant postmaster shrunk down as low as the little boy while Grand Postmaster Mai, his boss's boss, peered down at them.


End file.
